


you're pretty (smart), right?

by peterandhispirate



Category: Twenty One Pilots, joshler - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Eventual Fluff, First Kiss, Fuckboy!Tyler, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, nerd!josh, stab me pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterandhispirate/pseuds/peterandhispirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a good minute, Josh just stared. Stared at what must surely be some sort of illusion. Because this wasn't real. There was no way in blue hell that Tyler Joseph had just sat his ass down at the same table as Joshua Dun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're pretty (smart), right?

**Author's Note:**

> if you thought i was done writing shitty high school au's,, you are sorely mistaken my dude

As soon as Josh heard the words "you'll be partnering up for this project" come out of his English teacher's mouth, he wanted to find the nearest window and jump out of it.

Because Josh Dun did not have the _I have at least five friends_ luxury. He also didn't have the _I have at least one friend_ luxury. He didn't have any luxuries in this situation. All he had was stupid messy hair and a love for sci-fi movies. And braces. Those too.

Basically, he was the last person anyone would want as a partner. It didn't matter that he was more than pretty smart and could ace the project with his eyes closed. What mattered to the other thirty-one assholes in his English class - in _every_ class - was that he was anxious and mumbled and sometimes the lacrosse team threw his trumpet in the pool and made him strip down to his boxers to get it, all while laughing at his lack of abs.  _That's_ what mattered.

So he was sitting there feeling quite sorry for himself as everyone else lunged out of their seats and slapped each other on the backs - you know, partner-y things - when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Obviously, this had to be his English teacher, probably wearing his usually pitying expression as he asked, "Don't you have a partner, Joshua?"

(The answer was usually a sad head shake.)

But just when he was preparing to sadly shake his head, he found himself looking up into the annoyingly pretty face of Tyler Joseph. 

Oh, sweet mother of god.

He felt the words "what do you want?" sitting behind his teeth, but his tongue was functioning worse than usual (because apparently that's possible), so he ultimately settled on not talking at all and just awkwardly staring. 

Tyler briefly stared back before sort of smiling in that douchebag way of his and beginning with, "Hey, you're pretty smart, right?"

A weak shrug.

"Okay, so do you wanna be partners?"

Well, this certainly had to be a mistake. A very very _very_ big mistake.

Because Tyler Joseph had about five friends in every fucking class. Because Tyler Joseph was the captain of the basketball team. Because Tyler Joseph was considered a flawless human being. Because Tyler Joseph could pick anyone he wanted in that damned room to be partners with. _Anyone_.

So why, in the name of all things holy, would he choose Joshua William Dun? The quiet nerdy mess with the stupid hair and braces and love of sci-fi movies?

It didn't make any sense, especially not to Josh, who was still sitting there. Staring. 

Tyler raised a brow, waiting for any sort of response other than the helpless look on the other boy's face as he tried to remember how to form a coherent sentence.

When Josh finally spoke, all that came out was a weak "um."

"So is that a no, then?" Tyler murmured, frowning a little. It looked like disappointment. Was he _disappointed?_  God, hell must've been freezing over.

"I, uh- I'm just... A little surprised," Josh finally managed to splutter, not even wanting to think about how pink his face was at that point. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, I didn't think- I, um, I didn't realize you knew I existed..?"

Real smooth, Dun. Make him feel like a total dick. That always works.

(But, if we're being honest, the guy _was_ sort of a self-centered asshole. So he might as well know it.)

Said asshole blinked at him once. Twice. Three times. And then he murmured, "Do you want to be my partner or not, Dun?"

Again, all Josh could manage was a meek "um" as he glanced behind Tyler at where his (several) friends were intently watching the exchange from across the room with big stupid grins on their faces. He could hear the snickering, and oh, _god_ , this must be a prank. Some sort of sick joke.

Returning his eyes to Tyler's expectant face, he mumbled, "You're serious?"

Furrowed brows. "Obviously. I wanna get a good grade on this."

Attention nervously flitting back and forth from the smirking assholes nine feet away to their ringleader, who was leaning impatiently over the back of his chair, he eventually came to a decision:

"Yeah, sure. As long as you- as you pull your own weight. Okay?"

A grin of triumph danced across the annoyingly pretty face; Tyler nodded a satisfied nod and replied silkily, "Of course. Knew you wouldn't say no, Dun."

Something told Josh that this project wasn't going to pull him out of his comfort zone, but _yank_ him. Forcefully. 

 

"So why'd you _really_ do this?"

They were sprawled out on Tyler's bed (fully clothed, obviously) with papers and rough drafts and notes strewn around them. Josh had offered to work on the project at his place, but Tyler insisted that his house was ideal due to both his mom and dad being busy. Which meant less distractions, less interruptions.

Also, Josh had been too shy to argue with him, so he just went along with it.

Long story short, they had been working for two hours straight - as it turns out, Joseph _can_ pull his own weight -  and had decided to just lay down for awhile; now he was asking what the real reason was for Tyler Robert Joseph, someone considered a god, asking  _him_ , someone considered a fucking loser, to team up on something. Because he was still confused and curious and self-conscious.

"Whaddya mean?" Tyler asked quietly, rolling onto his stomach so he could frown at Josh, who was splayed flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his hands resting on his soft tummy and an undying fear of making eye-contact.

"You know... I mean, I- I guess I still don't understand why you chose me, of all people, to tackle this project with," he supplied weakly, swallowing despite his fearfully dry mouth. "You're, well, you're... You have a lot of friends, is what I'm trying to, um, say. I guess. So why me and not one of them?"

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it definitely wasn't a big grin paired with a laugh so pretty that it was probably made of sunshine and clouds. "God, Dun, don't look so scared. I'm not gonna rip you apart or something."

 _You didn't answer my question,_ Josh thought to himself, but it never translated into actual words. He decided to just let it go for now and accept that someone had willingly offered to be his partner. Even if it was someone as confusing and infuriating as Tyler Joseph.

They laid in silence for a good minute, though it wasn't an awkward sort of silence that Josh was far too acquainted with. It was light; almost wistful.

And then Tyler, propped up on his elbows, was saying, "I like your braces, by the way."

It took awhile for those seven words to even register in Josh's brain. Because it had to be a lie. Why would he say that? A lie. It _had_ to be a lie.

Because Josh Dun doesn't get compliments. He gets weird looks and humiliation and his trumpet tossed in the pool and lacrosse players watching and laughing as he strips down to only boxers to go get it back.

 _I like your braces, by the way_.

"You don't really mean that," he eventually mumbled, sitting up on the bed so he could finally look the smiling basketball captain in the eye. "Do you?"

"Why wouldn't I mean it? I really do like them. They're bright. What's not to like?"

 _Literally everything, according to everyone else,_ Josh thought, a little bitterly. But the traces of sourness left behind by his wounded pride were overwhelmed by the glorious pinkness of his face. "I dunno. No one's ever told me that before."

"Well, allow me to be the first," Tyler snorted with a smile that could resurrect dead flowers. It also didn't do much to help bring Josh's face back to its original, non-pink color; his cheeks felt warmer than the surface of the sun when he mumbled shyly, "Oh. Well I- I, um... We should probably keep working. This is due by, uh, next Tuesday."

"Thursday," Tyler corrected him, grinning.

"Yeah, that's- that's what I meant," Josh rambled helplessly, clearing his throat to make the next words come out easier. (It didn't help.) "Let's just, u-um, pick up where we left off?"

"Whatever you say," came the hummed reply as piano hands began gathering up all the paper littered around them. "You're the boss."

The strangled squeak of surprise that Josh let out suggested that those last couple of words were ones he had never imagined would come out of Tyler Joseph's pretty mouth.

 _A mouth that's probably kissed more girls than you can count,_ he reminded himself a moment later. 

It was in that moment that he wanted to slap himself. Because, oh yeah, this is Tyler _Joseph_. The captain of goddamn basketball team, the fuckboy with the nice shoes and clothes and social status, the guy that had either ignored or mindlessly laughed at him with the rest of them up until now. 

And he was gullible enough to be charmed by him like everyone else: the girls that he regularly winked at, the guys that he slapped on the back and shot hoops with- even the goddamn teachers.

How many A's had he gotten just for showing up with a nice smile when Josh had to fucking _work_ for each good grade? Too many.

_You're an idiot, you know that? Why do you think he's being so nice to you in the first place? To mess with you. Or maybe he wants something. But it isn't because he likes you. He's just like everyone else._

"Hey, you okay?"It sounded like concern, like sincerity. But Josh knew that it was all a pack of lies, and for a second, he swore he was going to cry or throw up or _something_ that would repulse Tyler into finding a new partner. Which was a good thing. Better for both of them. "Josh?"

Fingers snapped in front of his eyes, and he blinked warily once or twice before glancing at the asshole's troubled face. "You kinda zoned out on me, man. Something wrong?"

A few tense seconds passed. And then,

"No, I'm fine. I was just thinking about what else we could add to the... To the project. That's all."

The smile returned, twisting the knife in his gut. "Okay."

And for the next hour, Josh continued to make up a new excuse for each time Tyler asked him why he suddenly looked so sad.

 

Josh's new mission was to avoid Tyler as much as possible.

Because he didn't need this. Didn't need complications. Didn't need to think about stupid basketball captains with their stupid smiles and stupid words and stupid lies.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you be so stupid?_

He tried to keep their interactions to a bare minimum outside of working on the project (though even then he remained pretty standoffish), but that was easier said than done. Because Tyler was   _talking_ to him now. As in actually engaging in conversations. Conversations other than ones about the assignment.

Like they were _friends_.

Tyler would often join him in the hallway, walk with him, tell jokes and stories and the whole shebang all while Josh struggled not to grin like an idiot because this just _couldn't_ be real. He couldn't let himself succumb to Joseph's pretty face and charm like everyone else.

Besides: shy, nerdy boys with braces do not mingle with outgoing basketball captains who probably tell their friends all about how Josh Dun mumbles and is kind of chubby and blushes at the drop of a hat.

It just doesn't work.

Which is why Josh was all the more surprised when he heard Tyler call his name from across the room, stopping him dead in his tracks before he could reach the empty table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

"Hey, Josh!"

His nervous eyes immediately sought out the source of the yell; sure enough, there was Tyler Joseph, surrounded by the basketball team and pretty girls, hand raised in a wave.

After a brief moment of internal panic, he waved back. His fingers trembled.

Everyone clustered around Joseph was staring at him by then in both confusion and scrutiny, because just who _was_ this kid that Tyler thought deserved even a scrap of his attention? And why was he shaking?

Tyler beckoned to him then, crooking his pointer finger with a grin in a silent translation of 'come here'.

 _Oh_.

Tyler wanted him to go sit over there.

Tyler wanted him to go sit over there.

Tyler Robert Joseph, captain of the basketball team, wanted him to go sit over _there_.

With his friends and teammates and oh _god_ , he could see the lacrosse team already eyeing him like hungry wolves looking at a very shaky lamb.

So he backed down.

With one last helpless glance at Tyler's puzzled face, he retreated to his usual table with his tail between his legs and a lump in his throat, sitting down alone like he always did.

And he thought that would be that. Tyler would stay where he belonged (at the center of attention), and Josh would do the same by eating in complete silence. No lines would crossed. Everything would be normal.

Except it wouldn't. Because he felt someone sit down beside him.

His first thought was that it was one of the lacrosse players, looking to badger him, to poke him in the ribs and call him a waste of space. They did that sometimes. Maybe more than sometimes.

He wasn't completely sure what his second thought was, but it definitely wasn't Tyler Joseph, in all his annoying glory, sitting next to him.

For a good minute, Josh just stared. Stared at what must surely be some sort of illusion. Because this wasn't real. There was no way in blue hell that Tyler Joseph had just sat his ass down at the same table as Joshua Dun.

Tyler blinked back, smiled, and murmured, "What? Do you want me to leave?"

He had to think about that.

Stealing a glance over one shoulder at the table full of people that had just been promptly abandoned, Josh eventually turned back to him and said, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you here?

A wispy laugh. "Because I'm your friend, dumbass."

The dark-haired mess felt his mind simultaneously shut down and go into overdrive with those five words. He sat there with a stupid look on his face for the longest time before somehow whispering, "You're lying."

Another laugh, this one a little sadder than the first; Tyler snorted, "If I was lying, why would I be sitting here right now?"

"I- I dunno," Josh mumbled dazedly, shaking his head in one weak movement. "For fun? You were dared to? You're filling up a journal on how pathetic I am and need some firsthand experience?"

Now it was Tyler's turn to stare. He blinked slowly, lips parted ever-so-slightly- like he _wanted_ to say something, but he was at a complete loss for words.

In fact, it took him at least forty seconds to reply with, "None of that is true."

"Yeah? Okay, then what _is_ the truth? Why do you bother hanging around me? Why do you even look in my general direction? Why did you ask to be my partner in the first place?" Josh's voice began to tremble; not out of anger, but out of confusion and fear and a need for answers.

And Tyler was smiling again, which only troubled him further, because _what could be so funny?_

"Boy, Dun. For a smart kid, you sure are stupid." The chuckle that followed was helpless rather than cruel. 

Josh sighed. It seemed that a grasp on all this was still out of reach.

But at least he didn't have to sit alone that day.

 

As it turns out, he didn't have to sit alone _any_ day. Because Tyler eating lunch with him became a regular thing.

(And maybe, just maybe, he was fine with that.)

They'd sit and they'd laugh and Josh was gradually beginning to feel like Tyler really _did_ enjoy his company. No pranks, no dares, no lies- just the oblivious nerd and the pretty-faced basketball captain and opening water bottles for one another and sometimes brushing fingertips against soft thighs under the table - courtesy of Tyler.

Then the due date of the project rolled around, and Josh thought _this is it. After this, he'll see no reason to keep talking to you. You'll start eating alone again. Everything will go back to the way it was._

And he waited and waited and _waited_ for their interactions to cease altogether, for the fingertips to stop ghosting against his thighs, for Tyler to forget his name after three weeks.

But it never happened.

There was always someone to help him open his water bottle, always someone to laugh at his stupid Star Wars jokes, always someone to compliment his NASA t-shirts, always those same fingertips to make his face go the most glorious shade of pink.

Tyler. There was always _Tyler_.

When they finally got their grade back for the assignment, Tyler pulled him into the safest hug he had ever experienced and insisted, "This is because of you, you know that? I fuckin' _knew_ we'd end up acing this thing."

"S'not because of me," Josh mumbled shyly, embracing him back and unable to resist nuzzling his face into his shoulder. "You did just as much work I did, y'know."

And because A's are no easy thing to come by (plus they had worked their asses off for this), Tyler suggested heading back to his place once school let out for some sort of celebration. He also promised that they could watch Star Wars together because Josh had been appalled when he found out that his (only) friend hadn't seen any of them before.

That's how they wound up huddled together on Tyler's couch, Josh's head ending up in the pretty boy's lap before the movie was even five minutes in. Fingers ran through the dark mess of hair, playing with curly strands until Josh was purring and sleepy.

Tyler chuckled a lullaby chuckle, fingertips kissing the blissful boy's warm cheek as he hummed, "Gonna fall asleep?"

"Dunno." Eyelashes fluttered lazily, like the wings of a drowsy butterfly. "Maybe."

"Well, can I ask you something just in case you do?"

With a hummed "uh huh" Josh dragged himself upright so he was practically sitting in Tyler's lap, blinking at him sleepily with pink cheeks and perfectly mussed hair and never, in his eighteen years of living, had Tyler seen such a pretty sight.

And that was why, with their faces four inches apart, he breathed,

"Can I kiss you?"

As soon as that last syllable fell from his lips, there was a honeyed mouth against his own and fingers curled snugly around his shoulders, holding him in place as Josh straddled his thighs and god _damn_ , Tyler was certain he saw fireworks going off behind his eyelids.

He tangled his fingers desperately into Josh's mess of dark hair, nails curling hungrily into his scalp and leaving a pleasant sting behind as Tyler whined into it, teeth catching bottom lips and mouths panting soft and warm, breathing candied air into greedy lungs.

And then Josh's lips were kissing a sweet line along Tyler's jaw, each savoring touch more gluttonous than the last, and hips were rolling gentle and sweet and Tyler was just so _sure_ that this must be heaven- up until Josh's mouth found his neck, leaving messy wet kisses behind on every inch of skin he could reach. A wispy whine wound its way out of Tyler's mouth as he felt lips right where his frantic pulse lived, pressing hungrily against his bared throat. Teeth bit down lightly, gently, lullingly.

Josh drew back a moment later, breathless with a few strands of dark hair falling into his glassy eyes as he stared at Tyler Joseph in all his pink-faced, grinning glory.

"You know, I bet if we were given a project on kissing, we'd get an A on that, too."

"Shut up," a flustered Josh mumbled, but he was smiling when he said it; untangling himself from Tyler's lap, he moved over in order to snuggle into his side, leaning his head sleepily against the humming basketball captain's shoulder.

(Let's just say that the lacrosse players wouldn't mess with him anymore.)

**Author's Note:**

> perhaps the most traumatizing moment of my life was when i was eating oreos and writing this,, and one of them deadass fell out of my hand into the glass of milk. and it took me like five minutes to get it out. what a rude fucking oreo. you've got some nerve you lil fucker,,


End file.
